Breathe For Today
by typical
Summary: Deathly Hallow Spoilers! After Ron leaves, will something happen between Harry and Hermione?


**Author's Note:** Deathly Hallow spoilers! This takes place when Harry and Hermione return from Bathilda's house, and after they read part of Rita's book on Dumbledore's life.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of it.

Harry jumped at the sound of a twig snapping; it sounded like a gun shot; echoing through the night. He stood up, and whispered "_Lumos_". A beam of light emerged from the tip of Hermione's wand as he held it above his head, aiming the light at the ground. Looking for the cause of the disturbance, he saw the retreating form of a squirrel.

He sighed, and checked the gold watch that Mrs. Weasley had given him for his seventeenth birthday, it read midnight.

"Hermione's turn." He muttered. As he turned to enter the tent, he whispered "_Nox_." The warmth of the tent seemed to envelope him, and he studied his surroundings. It was barely lit; a lone lamp sitting on a table a couple feet away from a bunk, giving the room an eerie glow. And, the form he knew to be Hermione's was lying on that bunk.

Harry was prepared to wake up Hermione, to tell her that it was her turn to take watch. But, he saw that it was unnecessary, as she was awake, propped up, and reading _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_. She didn't see to notice him approaching her.

As he drew closer, he noticed her eyes. They were puffy and red, she had been so distraught after Ron left, there was barely a time that she wasn't crying. He also noticed that her eyes were unmoving, and unblinking. She was merely staring at her book, and she seemed to be ignoring him.

Harry felt a pang of remorse. He had been quite ignorant to Hermione for the past couple of weeks. And the series of events that had just recently happened: Ron leaving him, and her breaking his wand, had not improved the situation. He lashed out at every opportunity. All the while, she was emotionally crumbling before his very eyes, and he made no move to help. But, she had, he could still feel where her hand had ran through his hair earlier.

He sat down on the bed by her feet, it creaking under his weight. She still didn't look up. He reached up, and took the book from her hands, and bent down to lay it on the floor. Her hands fell, limp, to her thighs. She still didn't look up.

Harry sighed, and ran a hand through his hair; he wasn't good at apologizing.

"Hermione…" he started, "I-I'm sorry."

She looked up at him, and stared right into his eyes. A silent conversation passed between them at that moment. She seemed to read his mind. It was always like that, they seemed to know each other that well. But, as she broke eye contact, he saw how the flame of the lamp reflected in her eyes. Her honey brown eyes seemed to take on a new dimension of color. They were beautiful – she was beautiful. He took in her face, how rosy her cheeks were and how her brown curls framed her face. This scared Harry, he couldn't, he shouldn't be thinking like this. She was Ron's. She wasn't his.

In one fluid motion, Hermione swung her legs over the side of the bed, and scooted closer to Harry, so they were only a couple inches apart. He could feel the warmth of her body. And hesitantly, she took one of his hands, and held it in her lap.

"Harry-", she looked up at him and sighed, "I forgive you. If I were in your position, I believe I would not have acted any better."

Silence passed through the tent. An awkward silence; Harry didn't know what to say.

"But," he started, "I haven't been a very good friend to you, Hermione. I should have done something, at least comfort you. It was obvious there was something going on between you and Ron."

Hermione placed her other hand on his arm, and tears began to fill her eyes. "Harry, it has never been about Ronald. Well, maybe in the beginning it was, but I gave him up after a couple days. If he left me, even after I went out in the rain and called after him, he apparently never cared for me like that."

Harry was dumbstruck. "Then what – "

Hermione cut him off, and whispered: "It has always been about you. I've known you for so long, and I know you so well. I thought I loved Ron, but, I was just a foolish girl, hoping to find love."

A blush rose in her cheeks, and she looked down, but not before Harry saw the tears trickle down her cheeks. He reached up, cupped her face, and wiped them away with his thumb.

"Then why are you so upset? I really don't understand. Hermione…"

"You wouldn't!" Her voice broke. "Even though you're Ginny's, and she is my best friend, I can't help what I'm feeling. I guess…what I'm trying to say is…I have strong feelings for you, and they scare me! When we were at your parents' graves earlier, I couldn't help but… feel a connection. But what am I saying," she scoffed, "I'm so stupid!"

She rose from the bed, grabbed her wand from Harry, and made for the tent flap. But, before she made it, before she got out of his reach, he grabbed her hand, and pulled her in front of him. The wand dropped from her grasp and clattered to the floor. She stared at him, and as her eyes, so filled with love and sadness, held Harry's, he had an idea of what was to happen in the next moments, but had no urge to stop them. Harry had never felt so happy, so complete. He pulled Hermione down, so that she was straddling him, her knees on the bed on either side on his hips.

He began, his voice husky: "Hermione, you're not stupid, the feeling is mutual."

For once, she was at a loss for words. Harry acted on this, grabbed her shoulders, and their lips met. Hermione froze at the contact, but seemed to melt into him, and kissed him back in earnest. The kiss was soft, sensual, and full of meaning. It was a wonderful feeling, how well she seemed to fit with his body, it was as if he was a puzzle, and she was the missing piece. Lust overtook Harry.

As their tongues danced, clothes were discarded on the floor; there lips seeming to never break contact, and Harry pushed her down gently on the bed. It was then he broke contact from her lips, those soft, red lips, reluctantly, and took in the site before him. She was so beautiful, there was no other word, she was indescribable. Her skin seemed to glisten from the layer of sweat that had formed during their previous actions, but, it wasn't a dirty sweat, it was the most provocative kind he had ever seen. Her breasts were moving up and down with her gasping breaths, her small waist curved into her hips, and between her shapely thighs was the apex that just looked so inviting.

The next moments were a blur: their lips crashed upon the other's, their hands mapped uncharted territories, and Harry brought his lips down upon her body to mark the places that made her back arch and brought forth a moan from her lips that he would never forget.

Their movements seemed so graceful, and so well rehearsed, like a dance. Nothing was awkward and every movement flowed.

And then suddenly, his lips were back upon hers, and with a simple nod of her head, he was inside of her. She gasped, but it was muffled with his mouth upon hers. She met his thrusts, matching his speed, and his name was on her lips. He never wanted anyone but her to say his name. Her hands ran through his hair, and her nails ran down his back, her back arched. She seemed to shudder underneath him.

Finally, in the first moments of early morning, with the cry of each other's name, they released all unexpressed feelings; hands tangled in the bed sheet. Harry collapsed on top of her, his face buried in the crook of her neck. He never felt so home right now, not even the feeling when he entered Hogwarts for the first time could compete with this.

As he rolled on the edge of the small bed, brought Hermione close to him, and moved to the middle of the bed, thoughts seemed to flood his mind.

He had never felt like this with Ginny. But what about Ron? What would he think about this?

He tightened his grip on Hermione's waist, and brought her impossibly closer as she rested her head on this bare chest. As she spoke, he felt her warm breath.

"Harry, you do realize that everything's going to change?"

He kissed the top of her head, and grasped for the blanket that had been thrown on the floor in their haste, and put it around them. She began to trace the angry red oval on his chest, the burn mark the locket had given him. His eyes were drooping, sleep seemed to overtake him. It was only then that he realized that the lamp had gone out, and the tent was dark.

His voice was soft with weariness, "But, I'd like to keep it like this. Hermione…I love you."

He vaguely made out her answer. "I love you too." She breathed it, barely a whisper. He felt her breaths become shallow and even, her hand stopped and was splayed across his chest. Then, as he smiled, he let sleep over come him.

For once, he had a dreamless sleep.

**Authors Note**: Well, this is the first story I've ever shown in the 'public'. I would love to have criticism, but please, no major bashing. Also, I know that Harry and Hermione never happened as a couple, but I wish it did.


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